


Ten No-Trump

by Leona_Esperanza



Category: NCIS
Genre: Card Games, Fluff Fic, Get-Together Fic, Multi, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leona_Esperanza/pseuds/Leona_Esperanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony teaches his friends the card game Five Hundred, and Tim learns that you can't win if you don't bid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten No-Trump

**Author's Note:**

> Smackalicious ran the 2011 NFA Secret Santa exchange, and I tried to write a fic as a thank-you for her work. I realize now that I didn't have a very good grasp of her fic preferences, but it's the thought that counts, right?

“Probie!” Tony DiNozzo called from across the squad room.  “Come celebrate with us!  We’re heading to the bar to drink some beer and play some cards.  You coming?”

Tim McGee looked at the small group that had assembled at Tony’s desk.  Tony was sitting in his chair, leaning back so far it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen yet.  Jimmy Palmer was sitting on the corner of the desk, already wearing his winter coat.  And next to him, Ziva David was pulling on her own coat and wrapping a warm scarf around her neck.

Tim’s first impulse was to refuse – it had been a long day, after all – but the thought of going out on a Friday night with Ziva made him reconsider.  Okay, it was just going _along_ with Ziva, as part of the same group, but it was as close as Tim ever got.  And besides, they certainly _did_ deserve to celebrate.  Thanks to them, a kidnapper was behind bars tonight, and a Marine’s five-year-old daughter was going to be home in time to spend Christmas with her family.  Really, life couldn’t get any better than this.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Tim agreed, and Tony let out a whoop.  “But we’re not playing poker, are we?  Last time we had to stop Palmer from throwing his shirt into the pot.”

“Not poker,” Tony promised, as Jimmy threw Tim a somewhat puzzled look.  Clearly, the Autopsy Gremlin didn’t remember their last game of poker – not surprising, given how much he’d drunk that night.  “Tonight, I’m going to teach you guys a DiNozzo family favorite – Five Hundred.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

A half hour later, Tony shuffled a deck of cards as he started to explain the game.

“If you’ve played Euchre, think of this as an expanded version of that game,” he said, looking around the table at each of them.  “There’s one joker in the deck, which is the highest trump.  After that, you’ve got the jack of the suit that’s trump – that’s the high bower – and the other jack of the same color – that’s the low bower.”

“I thought they were referred to as right and left bowers,” Ziva said, sipping at her margarita.

“That’s another name, but out of deference for our left-handed players” – Tony pointed at Tim, who was impressed with Tony’s vocabulary – “we’ll go with high and low.  So after the bowers, you’ve got ace, king, queen, on down to four.  The threes and twos aren’t used.”

“So how do you determine which suit is trump?” Jimmy asked.

“We’ll get to that,” Tony promised.  “Each player gets ten cards” – he began to deal them out as he spoke – “and we deal five to the middle.  Whoever’s bid carries gets to take those cards and make the best ten-card hand they can.”

Tim picked up his hand and looked it over.  He had both red aces and the jack of spades; the rest of his cards were numbers.  He’d never played this game before, but he had played Euchre, and his experience with that game told him that this probably wasn’t a hand worth bidding on.

He glanced across the table at Ziva, who was his partner for this game.  She was arranging her cards in her hand, frowning slightly as she considered them.

“Now – bidding.”  Tony paused to take a swig of his beer.  “The lowest bid is six tricks.  A six bid is sometimes called an indication, but don’t let that fool you.  If you indicate spades and no one else overbids you, you’re stuck with a six spades bid.”

“So if Jimmy bids six spades, I have to bid seven of another suit, or I can choose not to bid, yes?” Ziva asked.

“Not quite.  You got a pen?”  After Ziva had dug a pen out of her tiny purse, Tony grabbed a cocktail napkin and began to write.  “The suits are ranked, with spades as the lowest, followed by clubs, then diamonds, then hearts, and then no-trump.  Six spades is worth forty points, six clubs is worth sixty, six diamonds is eighty, six hearts is one hundred, and six no-trump is one-twenty.”  As Tony spoke, he wrote the bids and their point values on the napkin.  “For every one trick you bid over a six bid, you get another hundred points.  So seven spades is one-forty, eight spades is two-forty…”

“And all you have to do is bid a higher point value than the previous bid,” Tim filled in as understanding dawned.  “So if Jimmy bids six spades, Ziva can still make another six bid as long as the suit is worth more.”

“And since we’re talking spades, everything is worth more,” Tony said.  “But if Ziva bids six hearts, the only six bid I have left is six no-trump.”

Ziva nodded to show that she understood the bidding structure.  “And no-trump is…?”

“Just what it sounds like.  No bowers, aces high, the only trump card is the joker, which has no suit.”

“Do you have to take exactly what you bid?” Jimmy asked.

“No, but you don’t get extra points if you take more,” Tony said.  “If you take fewer tricks than what you bid, the value of the bid is subtracted from your score.  The other team will get ten points for each trick they take, even if you make your bid.”

“And whoever gets to five hundred points first wins?” Ziva asked.

“Right.”  Tony used another napkin to set up a score sheet, ‘T&J vs. T&Z.’  “Or, if you hit five hundred in the hole, you lose.  That’s not really winning for the other team, though – that’s just being present while the losing team screws themselves over.”  Finally, Tony picked up his cards and began to arrange them.  “So, you guys ready to play?”

Tim felt that he understood the rules well enough.  Whether he’d be able to catch on to a winning strategy, however, might be another matter entirely.

“Bidding starts to the dealer’s left, then.”  Tony raised his bottle and saluted Tim with it.  “So, Probie… bid or pass?”

 * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The first few hands were a little rough, as they were still getting used to the idea of the game.  Eventually, though, most of them hit their stride.

“There’s a few special bids that I’ve left out tonight because they’re a bit much for a beginner’s game,” Tony commented as Jimmy shuffled the cards.

“Oh?  Such as?”  Ziva dunked the last of her soft pretzel in a tiny bowl of marinara sauce and popped it into her mouth.

“Well, there’s nullo, where you bid that you won’t take any tricks at all.”

“Maybe we should play with that one,” Tim said, eying the score.  “I should be able to do that, easy.”

“It’s harder than it looks, Probie,” Tony cautioned.  “It helps that your partner sits out the hand, but if you take even one trick, you lose two hundred and fifty points.”

“Does the other team still get points for the tricks they take?” Jimmy asked.  “It seems kind of pointless to bid it, then.”

“No, they get ten points for every trick they make _you_ take,” Tony explained.  “We can throw that rule in if you want, but let’s wait for the start of a new game first.”

“If it’s worth two-fifty, does it fall between eight spades and eight clubs when you’re looking at bidding?” Tim asked.

“Yep.  You add nullo as an option, you suddenly start seeing a lot more eight bids.”  Tony grinned.  “Sometimes you have a decent hand, something you would have bid seven on, but probably not eight.  Then someone ahead of you bids nullo, and you realize that with all the decent cards you have, there’s no way you and your partner can manage to _not_ take a trick.  Suddenly eight doesn’t seem like such a stretch after all.”

Tim suppressed a sigh as he looked at the cards that Jimmy was dealing to him facedown.  He had yet to be dealt anything even remotely resembling a decent hand.  All he’d been able to do was pass, pass, pass.  It didn’t help that he was sitting to the left of Tony, who had openly admitted that he tended to overbid other players just so he could see what cards were in the middle.  What was really frustrating was that it didn’t seem to matter what kind of hand Tony was dealt; he still managed to pull it off most times, whether because of the cards he found in the middle, the cards that Jimmy played, or the fact that Tim and Ziva never seemed to have complementary hands.

Jimmy finished dealing, and the players scooped up their cards.  Much to his surprise, Tim found himself looking at the joker.  Yes!  He was now guaranteed to take at least one trick.  He started looking over the rest of the cards, trying to decide which suit he might bid…

“Eight diamonds.”  The confidence in Ziva’s voice surprised them all.  Up until now, she had been bidding rather conservatively.  Her cards must have been really good for her to bid so high right at the start.

Tony eyed her suspiciously.  “You’re bluffing,” he said.

“I did not think that bluffing was a part of this game,” Ziva countered.

“Are you kidding?  Bluffing is a part of _every_ game.  It’s a part of _life._ ”  Tony picked up his bottle and took a drink.  “Gibbs probably has a rule for it, he just hasn’t shared it yet.  I think Rule Seven is as close as we’ve heard so far.”

“‘Always be specific when you lie.’”  Ziva grinned at Tony over her cards.  “So, Tony, are you going to bid or pass?”

“Hang on, hang on.”  Tony made a big show out of peering at his cards.  “Let’s see… how about nine spades?”

“Hah!  Who’s bluffing now?”

Tim looked again at his cards.  He knew that he, and not the middle, had the joker.  That was one trick that Tony and Jimmy were guaranteed to lose – and the only one they could afford to lose.  Could he and Ziva set them?

Tim passed, as did Jimmy.  Tony pulled in the cards from the middle and began arranging his hand.  If he was worried when he didn’t see the joker in there, he didn’t show it.  Finally he discarded five cards, took one more drink, and led with the jack of spades.

Tim studied his hand.  Well, there was only one card higher, and it was in his hand.  He played the joker, and watched as Tony nodded, very slightly, to himself.  Right off the bat, Tony had lost the only trick he could afford to lose, and yet he acted as if everything was going according to plan.  Tony couldn’t be _that_ good, could he?

Then Jimmy played the four of hearts, and Ziva the seven of diamonds; and Tim realized then that of the four players, only he and Tony had been dealt spades.  And Tim only had the nine and the king, in addition to the joker.  Crap, maybe Tony’s cards _were_ that good.

And, indeed, they were.  Tim tried leading back with the ace of diamonds, hoping that Tony would be forced to follow suit, but Tony had no diamonds.  What he _did_ have were a whole bunch of spades, followed by the ace and king of clubs.  By the time those two cards came out, Tim had long been out of trump, and Ziva hadn’t had any to start with.  He watched as Tony took that last trick with a cocky grin and a flourish of his hands.

“And that, my friends, puts us at six hundred and twenty points.”  Tony didn’t bother to write down the new score; he just put a giant W under his and Jimmy’s score column.  “Shall we change partners, or stay with the teams we have?”

Tim would have been perfectly happy to continue as Ziva’s partner, but he couldn’t blame her if she wanted to switch – she might actually have a chance at winning, then.  But it was Jimmy who made the decision for them.

“No, let’s stay like this,” he said, gathering up the cards and pushing them toward Ziva, whose turn it was to deal.  “We’ve got to give them a chance to come back and beat us, don’t we?”

Ziva threw a smile at the autopsy assistant.  “Yes, let’s,” she agreed.  “We’re going to make Tony eat these cards, right, McGee?”

Privately Tim had his doubts, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue with the arrangement.  “Right,” he agreed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

They’d gone completely around the table, and Ziva was shuffling the cards again, when Jimmy commented on her elegant card-handling style.  “You’re really good at that, Ziva,” he said as she performed a riffle shuffle and then a bridge to bring the two halves back together.  They’d already had a good laugh when Jimmy tried the same maneuver; the people at the next table had been good sports when a dozen cards flew under their seats.  “How’d you learn how to do that so well?”

Ziva smiled wistfully as she split the deck and riffled the cards again.  “One of my first assignments as a Mossad officer was undercover at a casino,” she told them.  She offered the deck to Jimmy to cut, then began dealing the cards around the table.  “I learned how to properly shuffle and deal, and then I also learned how to stack decks and perform a few card tricks.  It was fun.”  The smile faded a little as she finished handing out cards and scooped her own into her hand.  “Until our covers were blown.  But we made it out of the casino and out of Cairo alive, and that is what counts.”  She studied her cards, not looking at any of her coworkers around the table.

Tony put it together before Tim did.  “Was that how you met Jenny?” he asked.

“Yes.  NCIS and Mossad were going after the same target, but officially they refused to combine their resources.  Unofficially… but that is a story for another time.”  She finished arranging the cards in her hand and looked to Tony.  “Your bid?” she prompted.

As Tony looked over his cards, Tim contemplated the very different paths that his life and Ziva’s had taken.  She had so much experience with the darker aspects of existence, experience that he could only begin to imagine.  Compared with hers, his childhood had been rather sheltered.  He had gone into law enforcement because he believed in defending the innocent from harm, but he himself had never been touched by such things.  Ziva had, and he marveled at the strength of character she showed in not just surviving such harrowing encounters, but thriving despite them.

“Probie!”

“Huh?  What?”  Tim blushed as he realized that he’d completely spaced out on them.  “Is it my bid?”

“Yeah.  I bid seven hearts.  What’ve you got?”

The cards in his hand weren’t any better than any of his previous hands.  “Pass.”  He rolled his eyes at himself and the offending cards as he looked toward Jimmy, to see what the autopsy gremlin would bid.

“You need to bid more, McStockton,” Tony needled Tim before Jimmy could open his mouth.

Normally Tony’s McNicknames made a little more sense.  Tim knew he shouldn’t encourage the other man, but… “McStockton?”

“John Stockton?  Utah Jazz?  Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him!”  Tony looked offended.

“I thought you liked jazz, McGee?” Ziva asked.

“Not jazz, Zee-vah.  _The_ Jazz.  The NBA team in Salt Lake City?”  Tony hid his head in his hands.  “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” Jimmy said.  “John Stockton, retired point guard.  Holds the NBA records for career steals and assists.”

“ _Thank_ you.”  Tony threw his arms up over-dramatically.  “My _point_ , McClueless, is that at least in Stockton’s case, passing all the time actually _helped_ his team.  You’ve got to give Ziva something to work with here!  Go on, bid something.  Bid anything!  You can’t win if you don’t bid!”

“Uh, yes, you can,” Jimmy, always helpful, pointed out.  “If you keep taking tricks when the other team bids –”

“But you’re depending on them to either not win or not drop out the bottom before you’ve made it up to five hundred, and that’s not too likely.”

“But if they get to negative five hundred points –”

Tony shook his head.  “I told you, that’s not winning.  That’s just being present while the other team loses.”  He slapped Tim’s arm.  “Come on, Probie, take a chance.  The card gods only smile on those who bid.”

“Those who sacrifice themselves, you mean,” Tim muttered.  He really did not want to bid on this hand.  “I couldn’t possibly make an eight bid.”

“You’re not in this alone, McGee.  You’ve got your partner, and you’ve got the cards in the middle.”  Tony pointed with the pen as he talked.  “Figure out how many tricks you think you can take with your hand, and then add three to that.  Your partner and the middle between them ought to give you that much.”

“I don’t know,” Tim said, thinking of how little help he’d been for _his_ partner.

“It’s not going to work all the time,” Tony conceded, “but it’s a good rule of thumb.  Come on, bid something.”

Tim again looked at his cards.  They hadn’t changed.  “Using your logic, I _might_ manage to make a seven bid, but you’ve blocked them all.  And I really can’t go to eight.”

“There’s still seven no-trump.  No?”  Tony sighed and waved at Jimmy.  “Okay, you’re off the hook this time.  But you’ve got the first bid next time, and I want you to bid _something_ , got it?  It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tim’s next hand was the same mediocre crap he’d had every hand, but he decided to take Tony’s advice.  Either it would work out, or he could prove the senior field agent wrong and maybe get Tony to stop badgering him.

“Okay, six clubs,” he said.  He didn’t have a great hand for clubs, but it was marginally better than anything else he had, so he went with that.

Jimmy’s bid was seven diamonds.  Tim didn’t even have any diamonds in his hand.  He picked up his beer and took a drink, preparing himself for another round of being useless…

And then Ziva threw an amused smirk Tony’s way as she declared her bid.  “Nine clubs.”

Tim choked on his drink, just barely managing to keep from spraying the table and his companions.  Crap, he hadn’t meant for _that_ to happen – he’d only bid six!  Ziva must have actually believed what he said rather than the accumulated evidence of the whole rest of the evening regarding the hands he’d been dealt.  Nine clubs was three hundred and sixty points.  That was three hundred and sixty points that they were about to lose.

Tony pushed the middle cards toward Ziva.  “All yours,” he said to indicate that he was declining to bid.

It took a minute for Ziva to examine the cards from the middle and choose which she would keep in her hand.  Tim tried to read something in her expression that might tell him what kind of cards she was getting, but Ziva gave nothing away.

At least until she set aside her five discarded cards, took a sip of her drink, and leaned forward.  “Okay, boys,” she said, a mischievous grin lighting her eyes, “let’s play.”  She pulled a card out of her hand and tossed it down onto the table.

It was the joker.

Everyone followed suit with clubs the first round.  On the second round, only Ziva and Tim had clubs.  Satisfied that the other team couldn’t trump over her now, Ziva switched to off suit – those suits that were not trump – and played the ace and king of spades, the ace and king of hearts, and the king of diamonds.  Jimmy had the ace of diamonds, but Tim, anticipating the move (and having no diamonds to force him to follow suit), played one of his low clubs and took the trick.  He took the next as well with the queen of hearts, and then left it to Ziva to clean up the rest.  Tony and Jimmy didn’t take a single trick.

“See?  Didn’t I tell you?”  Even in defeat, Tony could always find something to mock Tim with.  “Good things come to those who bid!”

Ziva smiled at Tim, and Tim couldn’t help but smile back.

“I was surprised, though,” Tony commented, “that you didn’t bid no-trump.  All those aces and kings, plus the joker…”

“I considered it,” Ziva admitted, pushing the pile of cards in front of her across the table to her partner.  “I could have bid no-trump, or I could have waited to see if I could set your diamonds bid.  But when McGee told me he had clubs” – she nodded in his direction – “I went with that instead.”

“All I did was indicate, though,” Tim protested.  “I didn’t really even think I could take six.  When you went to nine…”

“Well, I had to,” she said, looking sideways at Tony.  “I had to bid high enough that he wouldn’t overbid me.  If I had bid eight –”

“I would have raised Jimmy’s diamonds bid to eight,” Tony finished.  “I almost raised it to nine – but I didn’t think we’d make it.  And honestly, I was hoping you’d bid too high and we could set you.”

Tim idly listened to them continuing to discuss the hand they’d just played as he shuffled the cards and began to deal.  He thought maybe he was beginning to understand what worked and what didn’t, from the comments that everyone made at the end of each hand.  Technically, they shouldn’t be discussing their hands at all in the middle of a game, but this was a learning experience – and besides, they were enjoying themselves far too much to take such rules seriously.

They continued to play, and Tim pushed himself to step outside his comfort zone and bid more aggressively than before.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it failed.  Ziva was a good partner.  If Jimmy overbid him, she would raise Tim’s bid if she had the cards to support it.  If she didn’t, she would venture a bid of her own, in a different suit.  When they won, she complimented him on his play; when they lost, she helped him analyze what they could have done better without placing blame.

Of course, sometimes there was nothing they could do, such as the time that Tony’s bid carried and he picked up the joker, two aces, and the high bower from the middle.  Of course, Tony and Jimmy only got the points for the seven tricks that they’d bid, and not the ten tricks that they took, so at least there was a silver lining on that particular cloud.

Tony continued to coach them on strategy.  He expounded on his personal philosophy – for life as well as for the card game – at the same time.  _Take the chance, take the risk._ It might well have been the DiNozzo family motto.  It certainly sounded better than _DiNozzos don’t pass out –_ which Tim was fairly certain had been disproven anyway.  He could well imagine Tony’s father indoctrinating his young son as they sat around a card table.  _Play hard.  Go all out._   _Even if you go down in flames, at least you’ll never find yourself wondering what would have happened…_

“Six hundred points in the hole,” Ziva teased as Tony and Jimmy demonstrated how to accomplish just that.  “Did you really think you were going to make eight diamonds when Tim indicated the same suit?”

“I thought maybe it was a weak indication,” Jimmy defended himself, blushing.  “I mean, I had the joker, the low bower, and the ace, and a lot of high off-suit cards.  How was I supposed to know that Tim had almost all the rest of the diamonds?”

“It wasn’t a bad bid,” Tony said.  “If those diamonds had been split among the rest of us, you probably would have made it.”  He put a giant ‘L’ under their column and drew a line, ready to start a new game.

“Actually, if you could excuse me for a moment?”  Ziva pushed her chair back from the table.

“Good idea.  Potty breaks all around!”  Tony dropped the pen and stood, stretching his arms toward the ceiling.  “Probie, you can take first shift guarding our table.  I’ll grab you a refill on the way back.”

It wasn’t _too_ late yet, but Tim knew it was time to cut himself off.  “Just get me a Coke, would you?” he asked.

“No need for that, Tim, Jimmy volunteered to drive us all home.”  And indeed, Jimmy had been sticking to diet Coke and water all evening.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to leave my car in the parking lot overnight.”   He also didn’t want anyone else driving his car, but he kept that to himself.

“Okay, then you can help Palmer out.  You give Ziva a ride” – Tony winked at Tim – “and Jimmy can take me home.”  He pushed his chair in and made his way toward the restroom at the back of the bar.

Tim wondered if he was imagining it, or if Tony had placed a certain emphasis on that last line.  All night long, it seemed as if Tony had been using the game as a cover to teach a different lesson – _if you want her, go for it._   After all, Tony couldn’t _not_ be aware of Tim’s feelings toward their teammate – they worked together too closely.  For weeks, Tim had suspected Tony of maneuvering to put the younger man into contact with Ziva as much as possible – volunteering to partner with Gibbs so that Tim and Ziva had to work together, sending Tim down to the lab on an errand if he knew that Ziva was already down there.  Even the seating arrangement tonight, Tim sitting across from Ziva so they would be partners, seemed to have been determined ahead of time by Tony and Jimmy.

And then there was the coaching – _“You can’t win if you don’t bid,”_ Tony had said at least a dozen times tonight.  Tim knew what he meant – _“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”_   But maybe not knowing was preferable to finding out that she wasn’t interested at all, and worse, having to work with her afterwards with that enormous elephant in the room between them –

“You know, I kind of feel like a sheep,” Jimmy suddenly declared, apropos of nothing.

“Huh?”  Tim had been so deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed that Jimmy had never left the table.  “Like a what?”

“Like a sheep,” Jimmy repeated.  “And Tony’s the sheepdog.”

So it wasn’t just Tim’s imagination.  Only – if Jimmy had noticed it too, then was it possible that Tony was trying to send a message to, not the probie, but the gremlin?

“You, ah… you think he’s trying to herd you toward something?  Get you to do something?” Tim asked.  He’d had a horrifying thought – what if Jimmy was trying to work up the courage to ask Ziva out?  Even if Ziva said no – and who was to say how she’d react? – it would virtually kill any chance that Tim might have of doing the same, at least anytime soon.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”  Jimmy picked up the cards and started to shuffle them.  “It’s just so aggravating.  Here he is, pushing everyone to take more risks, but if he’s not going to do the same…”  He started to lay the cards out for a game of solitaire, frowning in annoyance.

Now Tim was confused.  Jimmy clearly wasn’t talking about the game – Tony continued to bid like a madman, at least by Tim’s standards.  Maybe Jimmy was commenting on the fact that Tony had long ago stopped pursuing Ziva for himself, at least in any kind of serious fashion.  He flirted, of course, but that was just Tony being Tony.  But if Jimmy was interested in the beautiful ex-Mossad officer, why would he have a problem with Tony backing off?

Of course, Jimmy could be – and probably was – talking about something else entirely.  But what?

Tim’s speculation was cut short when Tony returned to the table, drinks in hand.

“One diet Coke, one Coke, and one beer,”Tony sang in a passable imitation of George Thorogood’s rough voice.  He plunked their drinks down on the table and pulled his chair out.  “At least I got _my_ drink right.”

Before the senior field agent could sit, Jimmy looked up, abandoning his game of solitaire.  “Hey, Tony, can I talk to you privately for a minute?”  He motioned with his head toward the restrooms, where there was a convenient corner empty of tables or – for the moment – people.

Tony tilted his head, but didn’t seem the least bit surprised by Jimmy’s request – which further confirmed Tim’s thought that perhaps Tony had been trying to goad Jimmy into some kind of action after all.  “Sure, Gremlin,” he agreed, shoving the chair back under the table.  “’Scuse us, Probie.  Hold down the fort til Ziva’s back, alright?”  Not waiting for Tim’s answer, Tony followed Jimmy across the crowded room toward the relative privacy of the empty corner.

Now left completely alone, Tim took a sip of his Coke and shifted over to Jimmy’s chair, studying the abandoned solitaire game.  It was better than staring after them, trying to figure out what was going on – or wondering what was taking Ziva so long –

That last was answered sooner than he expected, as a strawberry daiquiri was set down on the table next to him.  “I think they have a new bartender tonight,” Ziva commented as she sank down into her chair.  “He’s a little slow,” she continued, then took a sip of her drink and sighed in pleasure.  “But he’s got potential.  Where are Tony and Jimmy?  I was sure they’d be back before me.”

Tim surreptitiously nodded toward the corner.  “Jimmy wanted to talk to Tony privately.  I’m not really sure what’s going on…”

Ziva glanced in their direction briefly, then pretended to be interested by the cards in front of Tim.  “I have been wondering that all night,” she said.  “There seems to be something going on with Tony, but I can’t figure out what.”  She reached over and tapped a card.  “That can go on the red king.”

Tim obligingly moved the card, then flipped over the card that had been underneath it.

“So do you leave tomorrow to see your family?” Ziva asked, leaning in closer to look at the cards.

“No, I’ll be staying in D.C. this year.”  At Ziva’s questioning look, he explained, “My parents decided to take a cruise to celebrate their thirty-fifth anniversary, and Sarah’s going with her new boyfriend to his parents’ place in South Carolina.”

“So you will be on your own on Christmas?”  Ziva’s concern was touching.  “That doesn’t seem right.”

Maybe it was the alcohol he’d imbibed earlier.  Maybe it was Tony’s pestering of him all night long.  Tim opened his mouth to tell her that it was alright, it wasn’t his first Christmas alone; but what came out was, “Would you like to spend it with me?”

Ziva’s eyes widened in surprise, and Tim immediately regretted giving in to Tony’s demands and coming along tonight.  “Er, I mean,” he stalled, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t be even worse.  “I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, but maybe, uh…”  He felt his face heat up; he felt like a complete idiot.  “Um, I mean –”

And then Ziva smiled, and her eyes lit up; and it stole Tim’s breath away.

“I would love to spend Christmas with you,” she said; and, much to his surprise, she laid her hand gently on his where it rested on the table.  “I do not celebrate it, no.  But I do not like being alone, and I like even less the thought of you being alone with no one to share it with.”  She squeezed his hand; automatically, he moved his other hand to cover hers, and was surprised to see her smile widen even more.  Then she was leaning toward him, and he was closing the distance, and her lips were just centimeters away –

“Ahem.”

Tim recognized Tony’s voice – indeed, he had half-expected the interruption – but he didn’t let that stop him from pressing his lips to Ziva’s.  When he opened his eyes, he saw Ziva looking back at him, and the curve of her lips and twinkle in her eyes all but promised that there would be more to follow.  Later…

“Well!”  Tony had a look of manic glee on his face.  “Isn’t this an interesting development!”

Standing next to him, Jimmy sighed and shook his head at Tony’s antics, but he was smiling, too, his face slightly red in embarrassment.  But that was all; if Tim had just ruined Jimmy’s chances of pursuing the beautiful Israeli, the other man was hiding it well.

“The geek and the ninja!”  Tony flopped into his chair and picked up his beer.  “They ought to use that as a movie title.  Casting might be a problem – I mean, who’re they going to find who’s handsome enough to play my role?  I think –”

Much to Tim’s surprise, Jimmy raised his hand and slapped the back of Tony’s head.  “Shut up, DiNozzo,” he laughed, as Tony turned in his chair with a pretend hurt look on his face.  “There’s no one good enough to play your role, so you’d have to play yourself.  And what would we do without you?”

Tony smirked.  “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded.  “Besides, it would just make it harder to solve cases if I had a lot of fangirls following me around every time I stepped outside – _ow!_ ”  Tony swatted at Jimmy’s arm.  “Would you stop it?”

Tim joined Ziva in laughing at their antics, grateful that Tony seemed to have gotten off track and was now more focused on trying to headsmack Jimmy without leaving his chair.  As the gremlin was the tallest person at the table, it was presenting quite a challenge.

“Okay, okay, enough!”  Ziva stepped in to referee when a wild arm swing from Tony almost resulted in her drink being knocked into her lap.  “Save it for the game,” she suggested, ending the solitaire game by sweeping up the cards and straightening them in preparation for shuffling.

Reluctantly, the two quit picking on each other – though it may have had more to do with the glare that the bouncer was giving them rather than Ziva’s admonishment.  “So, are we changing partners?” Tony asked, gesturing to Tim sitting in Jimmy’s chair.

“No, we can’t yet,” Jimmy protested from well past Tony’s reach.  “We’re tied at two games each.  We can’t just leave it like that!”

“Tiebreaker?”  Tim glanced at Ziva, who grinned her assent.  He squeezed her hand, then stood and moved back to his own seat.  “You’re on!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Several hands later, Tony studied the score sheet.  “Okay,” he said as Tim shuffled the cards.  “That last hand puts Jimmy and me at four hundred and ninety points.  You guys are at one hundred.”

Ziva shrugged and looked apologetically at Tim.  “Sorry.  I thought I could make eight hearts.”

“It’s okay,” Tim said as he started to deal out the cards.  “We almost made it.  If Jimmy hadn’t tricked us by holding the joker til the end…”  He mock-glared at the man next to him, who didn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“This is it, guys,” Tony warned them.  “If Jimmy and I bid and make it, we win.  If you guys bid, and we take even one trick, we win unless you somehow manage to take four hundred points or more on this one hand.  If both teams go over five hundred, it’s the bidding team that takes the win.”

“Looks like it’s time to bid, then,” Ziva said as she waited for Tim to finish dealing.

Tim winked at her and scooped up his cards.

There was a moment of silence as the players arranged their hands.  Then Jimmy cleared his throat.  “Seven spades.”

As Ziva silently debated what she should bid, Tim swept his eyes over the cards in his hand.  For once, it actually wasn’t bad.  He had a couple of aces, a couple of kings, and a jack of each color.  Whatever Ziva bid, he’d be able to assist –

“Nullo.”

– except for that.

“Nice move, Zee-vah,” Tony complimented her.  “If you make that bid, you’ll gain points without giving us any.  _If_ you can make that bid.  You think your cards suck enough to lose ten tricks?”

“You think your cards suck enough to set me?”

Tim tried to keep his face immobile as Tony glanced around the table.  If Ziva’s nullo bid held, he would sit this hand out.  He and his high cards would sit this hand out – which improved the odds that Tony and Jimmy between them might have enough low cards to set her bid.

Tony looked around again, then gave Ziva one of his patent cocky grins.  “Nine spades,” he said, and started reaching for the cards in the middle.

Tim’s hand grabbed Tony’s wrist before he could touch the cards.  “Not so fast, DiNozzo,” he said.  “I haven’t made _my_ bid yet.”

Tony smirked at him, but there was a hint of something – pride? – in his eyes.  “You got something better than nine spades, Probie?  That’s an awfully big bid…”

“You’re right, it is.”  Tim kept his hand on Tony’s wrist, his eyes locked with the senior field agent’s.  _You can’t win if you don’t bid._   That had been Tony’s message all night long; time to show Tony just how well he’d learned the lesson.  “Ten no-trump.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up; involuntarily, his eyes flicked down to his cards.  Then he grinned wickedly and pulled his arm away.  “If you make this bid, Grasshopper,” he said, “There is nothing more I can teach you.”

“So you’ll stop calling me Probie, then?” Tim asked without much hope as he pulled the cards toward him.

“In the _game_ , McSmartass.  Nothing more I can teach you in this _game_.”

Tim ignored the light-hearted banter that followed, Ziva and Jimmy teasing Tony, to focus on his cards.  He was taking a chance, he knew.  He had some good cards, yes, but also some not-so-good ones.  His partner had bid nullo, telling him that she thought her cards were low enough to not take a single trick.  Worse, by bidding nullo, Ziva couldn’t even give him a hint as to which suit she might be strongest in.  This was going to be a very interesting hand…

And then Tim picked up the first card from the middle.  It was the joker.

_Good things come to those who bid, indeed_ , Tim thought as he picked up the remaining four cards and slotted them into his hand.  _Now I just have to get rid of five cards and hope the ten I’m left with are good enough…_

Unfortunately, it seemed that his luck didn’t extend quite far enough for that.  _Okay, I’ve got the joker, so that’s one trick.  Since I have it, and it’s no-trump, no one else is going to be able to trump over me.  That means my ace and king of clubs and my ace, king, and queen of diamonds are good.  That’s six.  Hopefully by the time I get to the ten of diamonds, someone will have already lost the jack._

“Come on, _Probie_.”  It was almost as if Tony was defending his right to use the nickname.  “Hurry up and get ready to lose, already.”

Tim continued to ignore him.  _But that leaves me with the queen, jack, and nine of hearts,_ he thought.  _The ace and king are out there somewhere, and I’m betting that Ziva won’t have them with her having bid nullo.  So Jimmy and Tony are going to go over five hundred points, and Ziva and I will have –_ quick calculation – _negative four hundred and twenty points.  Fantastic._

But Tim could still feel the tingle where Ziva’s lips had touched his.  _We might lose this game,_ he thought, darting a quick glance at his partner.  She was beautiful – she always looked beautiful – but since that kiss, her smile seemed wider, her eyes brighter.  _Yeah, we’ll probably lose the game.  But I know how this night would have turned out if I’d just gone home…_

He pushed aside the five discarded cards, took a sip of his Coke, and prepared to pull out the first card – the ace of diamonds.  “Everyone ready?” he asked.

Tony rolled his eyes.  “We’ve _been_ ready, McPonder.  Just play the card!”

Glancing up one more time, Tim saw Ziva’s encouraging smile.  _Here goes,_ he thought, and tossed the card down onto the table.

The first few rounds went more or less as Tim had predicted.  Tony only had one diamond, which was the jack; so after that first round, Tim knew that his ten of diamonds would be good.  Indeed, by the time he played it, it was the only diamond left, so that guaranteed that the trick was his.  Even better, the others had to start playing cards of other suits once they ran out of diamonds.  Tim knew it wasn’t likely, but he was rather hoping that someone would have to discard the king and ace of hearts before he had to lead with the queen…

No such luck.  In fact, Tony and Jimmy were playing it smart by discarding their spades whenever they didn’t have to follow suit.  Since they had bid spades, it would have been pure foolishness for Tim to keep any in his hand, unless he’d happened to have the ace.  Since he wasn’t that fortunate, he had discarded the two spades in his hand after taking the cards from the middle.  But that left him with those hearts – not as certain to lose tricks as the spades, but close enough.

Tim played the ace and king of clubs next, and took those tricks.  That made six.  He was now left with the three hearts and the joker.  Theoretically, he could lead with the joker and call it any suit he wanted.  If he called it a heart, maybe Jimmy and Tony would both lose the king and ace of hearts on that round…

_Not likely.  Let’s face it, Tim, we’ve lost.  Let’s at least play this out the way I’d play a lower no-trump bid – throw the queen, lose that trick, take the next trick with the joker as long as I don’t have to follow suit with another heart..._

Tim played the queen, watched as Jimmy, grinning broadly, played the king over it –

And then all but jumped out of his chair when Ziva, with a matching grin of her own, played the ace of hearts over Jimmy’s king.

“Whoa, look at that!” Tony exclaimed as he played his own card, the ten of hearts.  “Your partner saved the day for you there, Probie!”

Surprised, Tim could only nod as Ziva led next with the four of hearts.  An obvious signal for Tim to take the lead back, so he did, using the jack of the same suit.  Jimmy and Tony were both now out of hearts, making the nine good, and Tim finished up with the joker and a triumphant laugh.

“I can’t believe we did it!” he exclaimed, holding his hand out for a high-five.  “I thought you bid nullo?”

Ziva slapped his hand.  “Oh, I did,” she said.  “But I was hoping to get a lower card out of the middle to replace that ace.”

“Lucky for you she had the right ace,” Tony said, adding a large ‘W’ under the ‘T&Z’ column.  He glanced around the table.  “Up for another game?  Different partners this time?”

Tim hesitated, waiting…

“I think perhaps it is time to call it a night, Tony,” Ziva said, finishing off her drink.  She smiled at Tim.  “Are you able to drive, or should we wait a little longer?”

Tim hadn’t had much to drink tonight, and he’d switched to soda more than an hour ago when they’d started this round.  “I’m good,” he told her, standing up from his seat.  “Jimmy, you’ll be able to get Tony home?”

Jimmy gave Tony a look that Tim couldn’t quite decipher.  “I’ve got him, don’t worry,” he said.

“Okay,” Tim said, taking him at his word even if he couldn’t quite tell what was going on between the autopsy assistant and the senior field agent.  They didn’t seem to have argued earlier, but there seemed to be a strange undercurrent to their banter.  “Thanks, Tony, that was actually fun.”

“You doubted?” Tony teased.  “G’night, guys.  Merry Christmas!”

Tim followed behind Ziva as they made their way toward the door, but once there, he reached ahead to open it for her.  Glancing back at their table as Ziva stepped through, he saw that Jimmy had taken Tim’s chair and was leaning close to Tony, staring intently at the other man as he spoke words that Tim had no chance of hearing at this distance.

Ziva turned back.  “You coming?”

“Yeah.  I’m parked down the street.”  Tim stepped out onto the sidewalk, letting the door swing closed behind him.  “I was just wondering what’s up with Palmer tonight.  He was acting kind of weird earlier.”

Tim was distracted when Ziva slipped her arm around his as they walked, but her words brought him back on track.  “I thought it was Tony who was acting weird,” she commented.  “If I did not know better…”  Her voice trailed off.

Tim looked sideways at her.  “What?” he asked, his steps slowing.

“Did you hear Tony tonight?  He was really pushy.  All that talk about ‘can’t win if you don’t bid.’”

“He was awfully pushy, wasn’t he,” Tim agreed.  “More so than usual, I mean.”

“I thought –” Ziva looked down, a slight blush coming to her cheeks.  “Honestly, I thought he was trying to tell me something.”

“Me, too.”  When she looked at him curiously, he felt himself blushing as well.  “I mean, I thought he was talking to me.  And Palmer thought he was talking to him.  I have no idea what Palmer thought he was trying to tell him, but –”

Some distance behind them, the noise from the bar escaped into the street as the door was opened.  Tim and Ziva turned together to look, and saw two men, one just slightly taller than the other, leaving the bar together.  The curly hair of the taller one and the long wool coat of the other were very distinctive.

“Looks like they’ve decided to go home as well,” Ziva commented.

They went in the opposite direction from Tim and Ziva, heading toward the bar’s overfull parking lot; and as they walked, one of the men put his arm around the other’s shoulders.  The other slid his own arm around the first man’s waist and pulled him close just before they turned the corner and were lost from sight.

Tim looked at Ziva, his mouth open.  “I – did I just see –?”  He shook his head.  “I do not believe what I just saw.”

“Why not?”  And Ziva smiled at him, leaning closer.  “It seems to be the night for bidding high, does it not?”

It was.  _You can’t win…_ Tim thought, and then he raised his hand to Ziva’s cheek, and tilted her head up, and kissed her mouth; and then he wasn’t thinking anything at all, just losing himself in the feel of her warm lips on his as she kissed him back.

She tasted like strawberries, like sunlight, like… like…  Words failed him, but that was alright, because right now he didn’t need them…

After a long moment that was at the same time far too short, Ziva pulled back.  But it was only a few inches, so she could look into Tim’s eyes.

“You invited me to spend Christmas with you,” she said playfully.  “Would you like to spend Christmas Eve at my place?”

He smiled at her.  “Of course, if you’d like me to.”

“I would.”  Bringing her arm up, she twisted her wrist so he could see her watch.  It was well past one in the morning.  One in the morning – Christmas Eve.  As the significance of the time registered in his mind, she was already gesturing toward his car with a teasing grin.  “Shall we?”

In response, Tim offered his arm and escorted Ziva to the passenger door, which he opened for her.  He leaned down once she was in and stole another kiss, just because he could.  When he finally stood straight again, he had just enough time to recognize the car passing them by as Jimmy’s Honda.  He waved, and Jimmy nodded at him, a broad smile on his face.  Tony gave him a thumbs up from the passenger seat.  Then they were gone.

A child rescued, a family reunited, and a wonderful woman who wanted to keep him company on Christmas while two of his friends did the same for each other…  As Tim rounded the car to get in on the driver’s side, he thought to himself that he’d never had a better start to a Christmas weekend.


End file.
